


Finding Relevance

by AlternateEnding



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:17:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 10,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8153618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlternateEnding/pseuds/AlternateEnding
Summary: This picks up where the POI finale left off - Shaw at a payphone with a smirk on her face. I wanted to explore what could be next for her and Bear, and The Machine finding out who we were. Then Shaw finds out a familiar friend isn't quite as dead as she was lead to believe! Happily Ever after, POI edition





	1. Can you hear me?

With Bear’s leash wrapped tight around her knuckles, Shaw exited the diner and headed downtown towards the nearest L train subway stop. She looked down at the German Shepard with adoration. “I missed you so much, buddy. I got a big bone waiting for you in Brooklyn,” she said. The dog looked up at her, with his tongue out and eyes bright, seemingly looking happy to be reunited with a good friend. 

For the first time since her team dispersed –-since John had sacrificed it all for the Machine, and since Root had taken her last bullet for her God and for her friends—Shaw felt at ease. Bear matched her brisk walk and kept close as she weaved between pedestrian traffic on the crosswalk. Her gaze met the top of head as his eyes stayed focused on the obstacles ahead and Shaw thought about how far she and Bear had come. 

She had told Harold years ago that she was only in it for the dog. Bear was huggable, loved to wrestle, and had a healthy appetite comparable to her own – he was perfectly perfect and all she’d needed. Now, Shaw slowed a bit, her walk matching the pace of those around her, and she recalled the woman who worked the relevant numbers for the ISA. She wasn’t sure she could recognize that girl in herself anymore. Sure, she had trusted Bear first. But in Harold she found more than an employer, and in the Machine more than a job. John had fought side by side with her, and she found she could trust him with her life. Then there was Root. Stupid, unreasonable, and reckless Root. She had to go and get her self killed right before the good bit, Shaw thought. How could someone so smart, so skilled with a weapon, so unbelievably beautiful, and so flirtatiously relentless, shake Shaw's feelings awake and then take a fatal bullet moments later? 

“Terrible timing, Root,” Shaw had said after leaving Fusco’s the night she had heard. She had to see his face and confirm it was true, to make sure that she hadn’t just lost her safe place just when she’d been freed from her hell. But it was true, and that had lit a fire in Shaw that propelled her and the team toward the fight of their lives – and they had actually won. One million scenarios where defeat was predicted, and they had literally destroyed the system that killed Root, and jeopardized the lives of so many others. 

Now that the battle was over, Shaw had no idea what to do. She was alone again, aside from Bear, and not unlike before Team Machine, but there was something missing. To have known love means also recognizing the absence of it. When did Shaw get so fluffy around her hard edges? Had John succeeded in saving The Machine, maybe she could return to the numbers, busy her self in work and in shooting kneecaps. She smiled at the thought, and then was suddenly jerked back to reality by the sharp tug at her hand. “Bear, halte,” she commanded. The dog kept pulling, and soon she was standing in front of a ringing phone booth. Hesitant for only a second, before the pull of hearing Root – hearing the Machine – had her grabbing for the telephone hanging on its hinge. Shaw pulled it to her ear and looked up at the intersection camera, a blinking red light winking down at her.

“Can you hear me?”


	2. Rerouted

“Yea, you’re alive?” Shaw responded, feeling her mouth go dry. The Machine was talking to her using Root’s voice. How was she going to get used to this?

“Yes, in a sense. A friend of ours left me a message updating me on what I may have missed, introducing me to who I was, to who you are. I’m slowly rebuilding myself, but I could use your help,” the AI spoke slowly and in monosyllables, clearly struggling to speak in full sentences, Her voice still tinged with Root. 

“I’m not really into the whole robot/tech thing. I don’t know where Harold is, and Root, well…I can’t rebuild you.”

“I am not a robot, Sam, and I am rebuilding myself. Did Root ever tell you about God Mode?”

Shaw tensed as she remembered the subway and her conversations with Root, clearly recalled by The Machine. This wasn’t over. It couldn’t be. 

“I think I got the hint when she knew the answers anything and everything and was shooting perps with her eyes closed,” Shaw said, slowly scanning the crowd for anything suspicious, slightly wary that she might be losing her mind. 

“Well, I need a new admin and I have chosen you,” the Machine said. Before Shaw could respond the call was disconnected, a dial tone echoing in her eardrum. Shaw looked up at he camera, a smile slowly pulling on her cheeks. Placing the phone back on the receiver, she continued walking downtown. Her mind was racing – The Machine was alive and she was talking to her using Roots voice. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the last part, but was pleased to have some sort of purpose again. Bear was walking faster now, and Shaw hustled to catch up with him. Eventually they reached the L train and started to descend the steps. Suddenly, Shaw felt a tap on her shoulder. She spun around, her feet between two steps, and came face to face with a lanky teenager holding a skateboard and something small in his hand. “This is for you,” he said while pushing an earpiece and set of keys in to Shaw’s limp hand before disappearing down the stairs. Intrigued, Shaw place the ear piece in her right ear while inspecting the keys, two house keys and one car key – no, one MASARATI key, Shaw realized, her eyes opening wide in surprise. 

“Turn around. You will not be living in Brooklyn, sweetie,” the Machine cooed in her ear, “well, not if you want to work together.” Already The Machine was sounding more put together, her speech sounding more natural with each word. Shaw didn’t love that she was being called pet names by an AI, but knew that fighting it now would mean maybe not seeing her new ride. Plus, she just wanted to hear more of Root, it didn’t matter much what She had to say. 

Shaw backed up and out of the subway entrance while tugging a confused Bear back toward the sidewalk. “What’s wrong with Brooklyn? A found a cool loft and that’s where my guns are,” Shaw said, still looking at the keys in her hand. 

“Sounds cozy. But there’s a car parked down the block that I think you might want to take for a spin, and an apartment overlooking the park that may suit your needs more comfortably. And Bear’s too, of course,” the Machine said, as Shaw was already speed walking towards the matte black Granturismo S up she'd spotted up the street. “The address is programmed into the car. Have fun.”

Fun? Brooklyn with Bear was officially on the back burner as she pressed the unlock button on her key fob. The car’s lights beckoned them forward. Shaw swung the passenger door open as Bear hopped onto the red leather seat. Shaw trailed her fingers against the smooth surface of the hood as she rounded over to the driver’s door. Once inside, she pushed the start button and the car’s instrument panel lit up. An address for the Upper West Side appeared on the GPS, preprogrammed as promised, and Shaw pulled the car into gear. “I guess we’re going home, Bear,” she said as she peeled out of their spot and headed uptown.


	3. Uptown Traffic

Shaw was worried about traffic. New York wasn’t known for its winding curves and clear straight aways. How could Shaw possibly get the chance to open the car up in the middle of Midtown? She approached the first intersection with a groan. Stop and go traffic in a Maserati was like nailing a bird’s wings to the ground and daring it to fly. Even Bear had realized their joy ride wouldn’t be more than a 15 mph trek uptown and had settled into his seat, his head resting close to the gearshift. Shaw’s idle fingers played with the fur between his ears as she looked ahead at the traffic, staring angrily at the string of red lights dangling from the traffic poles up ahead. 

“We’d be in Brooklyn by now if we’d stuck with subway,” Shaw explained to Bear, “but look at this car. If only we could hear it purr.” Bear’s head popped up then, as if the slight reference of a cat had spooked him from comfort. Shaw placed her free hand back on the steering wheel, considering her options. 

“You know, Sam, God Mode does have its advantages.” 

The Machine had accessed the car’s sound system and was echoing throughout the cabin. Hearing Root’s voice call her by her given name sent a shiver down Shaw’s back. That wasn’t Root - Root is gone. Root is dead - a mantra she had made for herself after her most recent spin on her round-a-bout. The Machine was alive, though, and speaking to Shaw directly. And she was sure the Machine knew Root better than Shaw ever could, better than anyone really. She sought comfort in knowing that. 

“So it’s not all GPS coordinates and fancy ass cars?” Shaw said with a smirk. “Walk me through this.”

The Machine acted instantly. Easily 15 blocks of red lights turned green, and Shaw shook her head happily. “Of course,” she said, as she readied her foot above the accelerator. 

“WAIT. One. Two. Three. GO. I’ve cleared a path, I’d advise not exceeding 100 miles per hour, however,” the Machine sounded pleased with herself. Shaw caught the smug tone she’d heard thousands of times from Root and she wondered if the Machine had learned it from Root, or vice versa. Either way, the millisecond she heard “Go,” Shaw was off. How the hell did the Machine clear out Midtown so fast? Shaw didn’t care – she was rapidly approaching 90 miles per hour, her heart racing steadily in her chest. 96, 97, 98, 99, 100 – does she dare? Fuck yes she does. Shaw accelerated to 110 mph before beginning to slow – her destination was getting close. Bear was up in his seat now, jolted awake by the sudden force their speed had created. 

Concerned about where she was going to park her new whip, Shaw slowed to an acceptable speed while entering her new neighborhood. She was pleased when she discovered that her destination came equipped with a private underground garage that opened automatically as she approached. As she steered the car down into the garage, she noticed that there were other vehicles stored inside already. A motorcycle, black as well, was tucked into a corner below a shelf with helmets and some other gear. There was also a more domestic looking SUV – it looked utterly out of place next to the Maserati, but Shaw guessed it was sometimes important to blend in. 

She parked the car expertly in the empty space across from the SUV and got out of the car. Bear followed, clumsily hurdling over the gearshift and over the driver’s seat, before jumping steadily onto the painted cement. Shaw spotted the elevator door next to them and pushed the button to call it down. A minute later, when the doors opened, Shaw noticed the lack of numbered buttons inside. Her options were only G*, which she guessed meant garage, and PH. “Pent House, huh? Definitely sounds a little nicer than Brooklyn,” Shaw said. 

“Maybe a little,” Her voice responded. The whole ride up Shaw pretended it really was Root, and that they were finally headed home.


	4. Room for Two

The elevator doors opened up into a large foyer. A coat rack with two leather jackets and two long overcoats hanging from it’s hooks was standing to the right, a large bench with a shoe rack underneath pushed up against the wall to the left. Shaw stepped out of the elevator and into her new apartment, her reflection beaming back at her in the large full-length mirror leaning against the wall next to jackets. This was way better than Brooklyn. 

Bear padded past the large plastic box that sat in the center of the entry room, and into the living room, his nails clicking against the dark hard wood as he went. Shaw made a mental note to trim them later as she squatted in front of the box. It was camouflage-printed and sturdy, probably very heavy, with a thumbprint reader built into the front of the box. Shaw placed her right thumb over the reader, and smiled as she heard the mechanism inside unlock. As she opened the box, her eyes widened as she took in her beloved collection of weapons. The box was outfitted so that each weapon was pressed into it’s own foam insert. Her knives of varying sizes pressed into the lid of the box, her twin 9mm Nanos set barrel to barrel on the first layer, her larger weapons stored safely below. As she was inspecting the contents of the box, clearly impressed that whoever packed the box was able to find every weapon she had stealthily stashed in her loft, Shaw heard a rustle in her right ear.

“It wouldn’t be home without some comfort items,” the Machine said. “My apologies that they were left in the foyer, I didn’t want the delivery man to know the location of the weapons room.”

“You’re sorry? You somehow found every single one of my very well hidden weapons, outfitted a secure box to fit each one perfectly, and somehow got it here before I even realized they were missing – and you’re sorry? I think I can forgive you…but about that a weapons room?” 

Shaw got up, heaving the box up with her has she started walking into the living room. The view was incredible. Floor to ceiling windows looked over Central Park west, the lake glistening in the sunlight as she walked forward. The living room was fully furnished with a large couch placed across from a curved flat screen television mounted to the wall above a large gas fireplace. Bear was already resting on a fluffy dog bed next to the fireplace, chewing on a familiar white bunny slipper. To Shaw’s left was an open concept kitchen with a gourmet grade range and double door refrigerator. There was an eat-in white marble counter separating the two spaces. 

“How did you even afford this? Your funds were all tied up last time I checked," Shaw said, still taking in the view, a hint of awe in her tone.

“I’ve made some investments, tried my hand at online gambling, plus it wasn’t too difficult to tap into some of Samaritan’s funds before they noticed it was missing,” the Machine said.

“Who’s left to notice? Samaritan’s dismantled,” Shaw said while peaking through the doors that surrounded the living area. A guest bathroom was to the right of the television, an office with various computer systems hooked up to a dozen monitors in a room to the right. Boring, Shaw thought as she backtracked past Bear and towards the kitchen to raid the fridge. 

“Their system was destroyed, you’re correct. But their human agents are still present and active. Right now they seem to have lost their order without Samaritan’s guidance. I’m monitoring them closely for re-assimilation.”

“Can’t I just shoot them? Why wait for them to regroup when we can take them out one agent at a time? Speaking of killing people, a little guidance would be nice. Where’s this weapons room?” Shaw’s arms were getting tired, her box of weaponized toys hugged tightly to her chest.

“The last door on the left at the end of the hall. We can formulate a strategy against Samaritan once you’ve settled in,” the Machine said. Shaw walked town the hall to the left of the kitchen, not even glancing at the black and white artwork that lined the walls. She passed the Master bedroom on her right, and a smaller bedroom on the left before she reached her destination. The door was ajar as she pushed it open, frowning when she saw built in bookcases lining one wall, two leather armchairs against the opposite. 

“You may want to recalibrate. I said weapons, not books about…software engineering,” she said pulling down a copy of The Art of Computer Programming while balancing the box on her leg.

“Mmm, a little light reading is always nice. Try Schrödinger though, I think you’d find some of his writings comforting,” said the Machine. 

“Homework isn’t really my thing,” Shaw said scanning the stacks for a copy of “What is Life”. Root had mentioned it to her once before, and she had been meaning to buy a copy to get closer to her memory. “Guns. Guns are my thing,” she explained refocusing, eventually finding the book she was looking for and tipping it out from its stack. 

Unexpectedly, the bookcases began to shift. Shaw backed up as they opened up towards her, slowly revealing an arsenal of weapons mounted against a wall. Grenades, semi automatic rifles, sniper rifles, even a small collection of powerful tasers lined the wall. Shaw looked up at the RPG-7 mounted above two shot guns, now confident this library was her favorite place in the apartment, maybe even in New York.


	5. Moving On

Shaw collapsed onto the couch in the living room, her legs dangling over the back of the couch, her ponytail grazing the floor on the other side. She had finally finished touring her new home. The bedroom came equipped with the largest mattress she had ever seen, a plush gray duvet and half a dozen down pillows stacked against each other. The floor to ceiling windows continued into the bedroom, and even into the connected master bathroom. A button next to the light switch clouded the windows in the bathroom and lowered a blackout curtain in the bedroom. A large tub was pushed up against the window in the bathroom, her own vista of Manhattan spread below. Two sinks sat within a large vanity, a modern mirror above each one. Next to the toilet was a giant shower surrounded by glass. Six shower heads pointed to the middle of the stall, benches were built into each side. It was all very big, all very impressive. 

As Shaw lay on the couch, the blood slowly pooling to her head, she could feel the tension building up within her. This place was amazing, but it was too much for just her and Bear. She couldn’t stop thinking about how much Root would love it. It was perfect for her, could have been perfect for them. Just as she was thinking about grabbing Bear and bolting, the Machine spoke in hear. 

“It might seem like a lot now, but just give it a chance. Trust me,” the Machine said, and Shaw sat up right on the couch, feeling a little lightheaded as her body adjusted to the movement. “Unfortunately, you’ve got to get going anyway. I have a job for you. It’s growing rather time sensitive, as well. Likelihood of firefight is 24.3%, so pack accordingly. Bear will be fine here. His bowl is full of fresh food and another with water.”

Shaw was on her feet in seconds, and was exiting the library with her guns when the Machine spoke again, “I need you at Grand Central in fifteen minutes.” Shaw entered the foyer and put on one of the provided leather jackets. It smelled faintly of Root and Shaw inhaled deeply. As she was reaching for the keys to the Maserati the Machine interrupted, “Sorry Shaw, but you’re taking the train.” Shaw groaned at the instruction. Why would she ever take public transportation with a super car stored in her garage? 

“That seems mildly illogical and majorly infuriating,” Shaw said. 

“Trust me,” the Machine said as Shaw left the keys in their bowl and pressed the button for the elevator.


	6. The Best Option

When she exited the Metro North train in New Haven, Shaw’s frustration had grown from irritation to fuming. “Why the hell did you bring me to fucking Connecticut?” Shaw growled, a few bystanders looking curiously at her. 

“All for good reason,” the Machine explained as a man walked up to Shaw on the platform with a large envelope. Shaw took it without questioning him, but shot a dark glare in his direction that made him scurry away in a hurry. “Your new identity is inside. Luckily, you have some experience in the medical field, so this won’t be much of an adjustment.” 

Shaw opened the envelope and pulled out an employee I.D. badge. She was now Dr. Beth Walker, Yale medical school graduate and Surgical Resident at Yale-New Haven hospital. “At least the wardrobe is comfy. Fill me in on the way,” Shaw said, headed toward the exit. 

The Machine had told Shaw what to do. She had infiltrated security and made her way into the resident lounge where she changed into scrubs, packing her own clothes and one of her Nanos into a bag that she stashed by the door. When Shaw had shown up for rounds, a distracted nurse handed her four clipboards, attached to each was information on her patients. The Machine had instructed her to treat them for their injuries and keep an eye open for suspicious activity. 

As she exited the room of her second patient, another routine post op check, Shaw noticed a group of men in suits hovering by the elevators. Shaw recognized them immediately. Samaritan. Shaw ducked into the room of her next patient and closed the door behind her. She immediately peaked through the glass window in the door to make sure no one had followed her. They hadn’t. She glanced at her clipboard, thinking maybe her patient was the one in danger. Penelope Hawks – Age 32 – GSW to the chest and abdomen. The gunshot wound indicated danger; this could definitely be who Samaritan was after. 

Shaw turned from the door and lifted her head from the clipboard. She looked up at the patient lying in the bed, a tangle of tubes and cables attached to her body. Shaw dropped the clipboard and ran to the side of the bed, her hand grasping for her patient’s. She dared not blink with real fear that this was all a dream. Her heart felt like it had dropped to her stomach.

“Root?” she asked, Shaw's eyes automatically checking her over for injuries. Other than a large bandage over her heart and a smaller one hugging her right hip, Root looked unscathed. It was really Root, Shaw thought as her eyes made their way back to the brunette's face. Her ivory skin was paler than usual, but a slight blush decorated her cheeks. God she was beautiful. Root wasn’t awake, and from the equipment that was hooked up to her, Shaw guessed that she was comatose. But a coma was not death, and if she was in the ICU that meant her surgery was recent. She could definitely still wake up. 

“How is this possible? She was dead. Why didn’t you tell me sooner,” Shaw asked, her voice stern but a whisper, an attempt to shield an unconscious Root from her anger. 

“I told you when I knew it was safe. We needed to defeat Samaritan and Root was critically injured. She couldn’t fight any longer and caring for her injuries would have distracted you. I ran the simulations, millions of them, and chose the scenario where the most people survived. The best option. This was it,” the Machine said. 

“She was alive and needed me—needed us—and you kept it from us! For your war? We trusted you. You watched me broken for days and didn’t once think to tell me?” Shaw’s voice was rising now; she could feel her heart pounding against her chest, her fingers tightly curling around one of Root’s hands. 

“It was your war, too. I understand your frustration, but we don’t have time to discuss details it at the moment. The reason you are here now is imperative. The agents you spotted outside were alerted that someone matching Root’s description, cochlear implant included, was a patient at this hospital. We need to move. There is an ambulance pulled to the rear of the building which is outfitted with the equipment she’ll need to make it back to New York.” Shaw began to lift the side rails of the bed and unlock the wheels, “My calculations predict she can survive on her own for ten minutes before she’ll need assistance again from the aspirator.” 

Shaw started disconnecting the heart monitor from Root’s chest, the steady mountain peaks flattening into a straight line. She’s not dead. She’s alive. Shaw was repeating her new mantra to her self has she steadied her hands against the tube attached to Root’s mouth. “I’ve created a distraction. Move,” warned the Machine. A quick twist of her wrist and the breathing tube was disconnected from the aspirator, a cool rush of air brushing Shaw’s skin. They had ten minutes.


	7. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update - I moved today, so apologies in advance to any typos! More tomorrow!

Shaw placed her hands at the head of the bed, her arms on the handles near Root’s head. As she leaned slightly to begin her push towards the door, Shaw caught a strong whiff of Root’s shampoo. The smell was dizzying, a silent trigger which brought Shaw back to their first encounter. 

Root was impersonating a lead then, but Shaw hadn’t caught on in time. She was distracted, though she would never admit it, by Root’s gorgeous brown eyes. Root was watching Shaw, reading her every move, and Shaw wasn’t complaining. It wasn’t often she met bold and beautiful women who were brave enough to blatantly check her out. Later, when Shaw detected a threat, her first instinct wasn’t to suspect the striking stranger across from her, but to protect her. She was stunned, literally, by Root’s ability to easily deceive her. It was zip tied to a chair with the heat of an iron warming her collarbone where Shaw got her first deep inhales of Root’s scent, and it was scent she’d never forget.

Now her girl was lying unconscious in a hospital bed, with a team of Samaritan agents swarming the building looking for her. “Nine minutes and 30 seconds,” the Machine advised in her earpiece. Shaw pushed the bed towards the door, picking up Root’s chart and throwing it down the bed and onto her legs. She’d need to look at it later in order to figure out how to help Root, to find what needed to happen to have her wake up. Shaw needed to see those brown eyes again. 

Shaw got the bed out the door and took a sharp left, directions from the Machine pattering in her ear. She took a few more sudden turns before she recognized the hallway. The resident’s lounge was just up ahead. As she passed by the door she quickly reached in and grabbed her bag from where she’d stashed it, tossing it up and onto the bed by Root’s feet. She was practically running now, drawing attention from the other doctors and nurses in the hall. 

“Routine CT Scan, but I’m late for a surgery,” she said with a shrug to a wary looking attending in dark blue. She spotted and elevator up ahead, and slipped the bed in just as the doors we closing. The doors reopened as the sensors picked up an obstruction, and Shaw slid in next to Root. As doors started to close again, Shaw spotted two agents running towards them, about to draw their guns. The doors closed completely as Shaw dove on top of Root, shielding her from the incoming fire, a familiar pang of a bullet hitting the elevator doors. 

Shaw climbed off Root and quickly discarded her scrubs for the clothes she was wearing earlier. They’d be looking for a doctor, not a leather clad badass in jeans. She stuffed the scrubs in the bag next to her spare Nano, figuring wielding two guns was more Root’s thing anyway. She checked that her gun was loaded and ready before shoving it down the back of her pants and readying her self at the foot of Root’s bed. “Three minutes,” the Machine said, sounding more urgent now.

When the elevator doors opened, Shaw pushed the bed out and into the hallway that led straight towards some glass sliding doors. She was running as fast her short legs would take her, the wheels on the bed shaking at the speed. As they approached the doors at the end of the hall, they opened silently, Shaw pushing Root into the cool autumn air.


	8. No Kneecaps

The ambulance was parked outside, exactly where the Machine instructed it would be. Shaw opened the rear doors and pulled the loading pulley down. It was designed for more than one person to maneuver and Shaw had difficultly lining the bed up just right. “One minute and forty five seconds,” the Machine said, as Shaw hopped up to press the button and activate the lift to bring Root’s heavy bed into the ambulance. It had worked, the bed was rising off the ground, and Root was almost safe again.

Shaw began to set up the equipment in the back of the ambulance. From the equipment provided, Shaw guessed that the snipers shot to her chest was making it almost impossible to breathe on her own. The bullet may have hit her lung, or grazed her heart. Shaw wouldn’t know for sure how to help Root until they were home and she had time to review the surgeon’s notes. All she could do now was hook her back up and hope for the best. The bed was fully inside the ambulance now and Shaw slid to the side of the bed. Root looked so peaceful asleep and Shaw decided she preferred awake and annoyingly flirty Root. She preferred the two-eyed winks and cocky smile when she’d gotten a reaction out of stone faced Shaw. 

Shaw leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Root’s forehead. “We’re almost home, Root,” Shaw said, arranging the breathing tube over Root’s mouth. Then Shaw heard it, a noise so startling she let go of the tube. It was a noise she had grown so accustomed to, a noise she had craved in the past – but now, only dread coursed through her veins. They were so close. Too close to lose it all again. 

 

A second gunshot was fired from the glass doors to their right, followed by three more, all hitting the side of the ambulance. Shaw jumped down off the back of the vehicle and sought cover by its open rear door. “Five men are exiting the elevator right now. Two are at the doors. Shoot now,” the Machine was loud in her ear. Shaw slid from behind her cover and shot the two agents right between their eyes. She wasn’t messing around. They had killed Root once, and Shaw wasn’t about to let that happen again. No kneecap shots for the people who ruined her life, especially now that her and Root had a second chance. 

Shaw retreated back to her cover, waiting for the five operatives to reach the exit. She only had six bullets left and she was running out of time to hook Root back up to her machines. Luckily, four men exited the building at the same time and Shaw shot them on sight – each dropping dead as fast as the first two. Shaw waited for the fifth man, but when she didn’t see him she panicked, looking up at Root lying on the bed. She’d been longer than ten minutes and couldn’t wait any longer. Certainly the Machine had her back, as well. 

Shaw turned and stepped up into the ambulance until suddenly a searing pain in her calf sent her tumbling back onto the ground. She shot blindly when she landed. Missing her target twice and running out of ammo in the process. Shaw tried to get to her feet as the agent approached her, but he was faster. He quickly had her hands behind her back and the barrel of his gun pressed against the back of her head. “I’m so sorry, Root,” Shaw, said, struggling against the assailant. A last gunshot echoed in the parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone interested in what happens next?


	9. Someday

Shaw’s eyes flickered open. Am I dead? She looked down at her bleeding leg. Nope, still hurts like a bitch, she thought, watching as more and more blood was pooling at her feet. There was way more blood than could possibly be coming from her calf, which at first glance was nothing more than a graze. Dude couldn't aim. Shaw turned around and saw the last agent lying on the ground, a bullet hole clear through his temple.

 

“Kill me once, shame on you. Try and kill my girlfriend, well, that just won’t do,” Root said, weakly holding Shaw’s spare Nano in her right hand. She was sitting up in the hospital bed, Shaw’s bag pulled up onto her lap. “Nice jacket, sweetie,” Root said quietly, obviously tired but not enough to miss an opportunity to tease Shaw. “I hope we didn’t just get blood all over my favorite leather.”

 

Shaw looked down at her jacket and then right back up at Root. Root was alive. Root was awake. Root had just saved her life. Shaw couldn’t speak, but her body felt warm and loose, a possible mix of adrenaline from almost being shot and relief in hearing Root’s post coma banter. No one else would be cracking jokes, at a time like this. Shaw climbed onto the back of the ambulance, forgetting the pain in her leg as she made her way to Root’s side.

 

“Your jacket?’ Shaw asked quizzically, slowly getting her words back.

 

“Mhmm, look,” Root motioned for Shaw to come closer to the bed with her hand. Shaw walked forward until the tops of her thighs were pressing against the side rails. Root grazed her cold hand against Shaw’s hip where her t-shirt had ridden up, the contact sending a tingle down Shaw’s spine, and then tugged on the bottom of the jacket. Shaw reached down to help, slowly turning the front of the jacket to reveal the inner lining. Surely enough, “root” was stitched near the hem with red thread. “And I must say, you look pretty amazing in my clothes,” Root said with a smile.

 

“I didn’t know. The Machine picked…I had no idea,” Shaw said, her voice low and concerned. “You know you were dead there for a while, or at least that what the Machine had told us,” Shaw noted, as her hand slowly intertwined with Root’s, still perched near her hip.

 

“I know. A little anyway, it’s been a long few days,” Root said.

 

“Weeks, you mean?”

 

“Don’t ask the girl who’s been in and out of coma what day it is, Sameen,” Root said with a smirk. Root gave Shaw’s hand a light squeeze.

 

“In and out? We should really hook you back up to the monitors. I didn’t get a chance to read your case file and…”

 

“Stop,” Root said. Shaw was already walking towards the medical equipment and had to turn back around.

 

“What?”

 

“Before you go all Dr. Shaw on me, can I just say that I am really _really_ happy to see you again. I thought I was going to die alone in that car. I’d even made peace with it. The Machine knew so many simulations, so many other realities, and I was convinced that if that’s how mine ended, well at least I met you. But here we are, saving each other from certain death. What a pair,” Root said, with a smile.

 

“Like you said, we’re perfect for each other,” Shaw said.

 

“Is this you realizing that, Shaw? Is today our someday?” Root asked. Shaw leaned down and pressed her lips to Root’s, an equal attempt at shutting her up and providing Root her answer.

 

After a moment, Shaw pulled back softly. “Can I doctor you now? I kinda want to get you home. We have quite the view now, thanks to your Machine.”

 

Root took a moment to process, her mind still in a daze from their kiss. “ _We_ have quite the view? Didn’t quite peg you as the UHaul type, but sure Sam, that sounds cozy.”

 

“We, as in, ME and BEAR,” Shaw said quickly, “but there’s plenty of room, at least until you’re back one your feet,” Shaw said and moved towards the equipment at the back of the ambulance. “and step one is getting you plugged back in.”

 

Root raised an eyebrow at Shaw’s quick save, pleased that their unique relationship had remained largely the same. She looking up adoringly as Shaw pressed the heart monitors to her chest.

 

“Don’t be alarmed if my heart rate’s a little fast. That’s just you and your propensity for surprise kisses,” Root said.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, sticking the last monitor on Roots chest with a little more pressure than necessary. Root was definitely back, and they were going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look who's awake :)
> 
>  
> 
> side note:  
> I really don't know if it's better to have daily short chapters, or bi weekly longer ones. What do you guys think?


	10. Up to Speed

The drive back from New Haven was slow. Traffic was building as they inched closer still to New York. She understood now why the Machine had forced her to take the train, and was grateful that she didn't have to leave her super car behind in Connecticut. 

Shaw had left the window separating the drivers cabin and the medical bay open in case Root needed anything. Shaw also left her earpiece with Root so she could catch up with the Machine. She could hear her speaking softly with the Machine but couldn’t make out the details from only Root’s end of their conversation. She knew, though, that Root might struggle with the news. 

Shaw wasn't ready to go over the details of what had happened while Root was gone. She wasn't prepared to fill her in about John. The Machine owed it to Shaw to let Root know for her, to fill in the gaps Shaw never thought she'd need to. Shaw glanced at her rear view mirror frequently, again confirming that Root near, slowly finding comfort in the steady beep of Root's heartbeat emanating from the monitor. She turned forward and focused on the road, determined to get them home safely.

Root was exhausted. She could tell Shaw was frustrated with the traffic they were stuck in and she was thankful the wheels on her bed were locked. Every time they inched forward, Shaw stomped on the break a little harder than necessary, jolting Root's bed slightly every few minutes. The movement didn't hurt, but Root wished she were well enough to sit up front with Shaw and keep her company, maybe distract her from the endless sea of cars she guessed were lined up ahead. 

She tried to focus on The Machine, which was easier now that she had taken a more neutral voice with her. "I'm flattered," Root said when she'd first heard her own voice speaking in her ear, "but my mental health history would suggest that another voice in my head analogous of my own might cross a few wires." The Machine complied instantly, apologizing for any confusion, stating that perhaps the voice was better for Shaw, who seemed to find comfort in it. Root was surprised to hear The Machine was speaking to Shaw in her voice. She didn't know how she felt about it, the Machine mimicking her while Shaw thought she was dead. She didn't want to think about that now, though, how she had "died" and left Shaw behind yet again. 

The Machine explained how they defeated Samaritan, but reminded her that there was still work to be done to make sure it wasn’t rebuilt. Then, Root listened quietly as the Machine told her about John and his sacrifice. She cried quietly in the back of the ambulance, making sure to shield her face from Shaw's backwards glances. She had depended on the big lug during her search for Shaw. He had held her back when she was about to snap, pulled her out of countless reckless situations. It didn't come as huge shock that he'd gone out a hero, but it still hurt her that he'd had to die at all. The Machine went over the simulations with her in an attempt to console her. This was the best option, she'd assured her, but it didn't help. John was gone, and they would all miss him. 

"And Harry?" Root asked as the Machine fell silent. 

"He's safe. I'm not at liberty to discuss his location. He requested some time away. However, your death is still certain for him. It was important that he remain in the dark about my plan and the code you provided for me allowed me to hide as much. Once he reinstates contact, I will let you to decide how to tell him." 

"Leave me with the tough conversations? Thanks for that," Root said with a huff. 

"It will be better coming from you. I'm afraid Harry is in a fragile place. He lost a lot of friends in our war, and he blames himself." 

"Alright, I’ll talk to him. Let me know as soon as he's in contact." The Machine agreed and Root took out her earpiece. Her head was starting to ache. She’d been subject to an awful lot of information for someone just out of a coma. It had been a few hours and she was getting impatient. 

"Sam? I don't mean to be a pest," Root strained to say through the small window behind her. 

"Then how else would you use your free time?" Shaw said, cocking an eyebrow. "What's wrong?" 

"Cute…Nothing's wrong per say. It's just...are we there yet?" Root said, turning so her eyes were peaking through into the cabin. 

Shaw chuckled, her eyes catching Root's in the rear view. "You're unbelievable...but actually, we are."


	11. Coming Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if the formatting is all wonky - this was a phone composition and posting, so spelling may be wiggly too. I'll try and fix it when I'm near a computer!

Shaw failed at trying to convince Root to stay in the hospital bed. Root insisted on walking or rather, clinging onto Shaw as they took the elevator upstairs. She insisted that the pain wasn't that bad and attributed her wobbliness to being horizontal for too long. When they reached their floor and stepped in to the apartment, Bear immediately came running to the door. Root attempted to bend down, but could only reach the top of his head. "Hi, new roomie. You been taking care of our girl?" Root said excitedly, in her dog voice. Shaw shook her head and laughed before instructing Bear to bed, the three of them walked towards the living room. 

Root tried to walk on her own, immediately drawn to the view that expanded in front of her. Shaw wouldn't let go though, and softly tightened her grip around Roots ribs. 

"You know Shaw, you can't teach a goose to fly if you're sitting on its back," Root said, looking down at Shaw, their height difference compounded by Shaw's not so subtle attempt at lifting Root's weight without her noticing. 

"What? A goose? You're a goose? Where the hell did that come from?" Shaw said, concerned. 

"Ah, morphine. I may have self medicated a bit in the ambulance. And I'm not complaining if you wanna hold me, Shaw. But let's up the anti on the romance and take in the view, too, k?" 

"I can't believe I drove a romantic goose all the way from Connecticut and showed her where I live," Shaw said, huffing as she practically carried Root to the window. 

A gasp escaped Root as she took in the park, now darkened apart from the lights on the sidewalks, glowing veins winding throughout. 

"You were right. Quite the view," Root said. 

Shaw simply nodded. She was not looking out the window, but at Root. She was so pale she was practically glowing in the darkened room. Shaw adjusted her grip around Root's waist, careful to avoid her injuries. 

After a moment, Root turned her head to view the rest of the apartment. It was styled a lot like her last place, with some simpler, more utilitarian pieces mixed in. "This place is decorated like your apartment and my apartment had a beautiful little baby," Root chuckled, nuzzling her head into Shaw's shoulder for effect. 

"And on that note, you're going to bed," Shaw said. 

"Only if you're coming," Root said with a wink. 

Shaw slowly guided Root down the hall to the master bedroom. Root was leaning more heavily on her when they finally reached the bed, definitely exhausted after their short walk. 

"You sleep on the side by the window," Shaw announced. 

"We have sides? So domestic," Root said. 

"You love the view and I like to be closer to the door," Shaw said, as though nothing made more sense. 

"So you can leave more easily?" 

"So I can protect you more easily," Shaw said and then literally picked Root up and carried her to the right side of the bed. Shaw placed her down on the mattress softly and began taking off her hospital gown. She grabbed one of her old Marine T-Shirts from where the Machine's helpers had unpacked it, and pulled it carefully over Root's head. Root smiled as the smell of Shaw overtook her senses. 

"Mmmm...I may have taken too much morphine, because there is no way this is all real," Root said, tiredness consuming her features as Shaw tucked her in. Shaw placed a light kiss on her forehead before stepping back. Root's eyes fluttered closed. 

"All I know, Root, is that it better be," Shaw said before exiting the room.

Shaw walked down the hall towards the kitchen, picking up Roots medical file off the counter and two bottles of water from the fridge. She kicked her boots off toward the door and padded back towards their bedroom. She undressed quickly and then pulled on a fresh tank and loose pajama pants before climbing into her side of the bed. 

The bed was so large that Shaw's out stretched arms came clear of Root by a whole foot. Shaw scootched closer to the center of the bed until she was satisfied with their distance, a half an arm away from a slumbering Root. 

Shaw took a sip of her water and began to read. She looked over the file three times thoroughly until she was satisfied Root didn't need to be hooked back up to the machines. The doctors at Yale New Haven were most concerned about Root waking from the coma, and not about any internal injuries the gun shots may have caused. Shaw would check and redress the wounds in the morning, but otherwise all they could do was wait for Root to regain her strength and heal. She would be alright. 

Shaw finally let her exhaustion consume her and turned off the bedside lamp. She crawled over to the other side of the bed, where she found Root snoring softly, and settled down so they were only inches apart.


	12. Staying in Bed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the hiatus! Lots of new things going on for me at the moment. The comments brought me back to work on this, so thanks for the encouragement!!

Root woke up the next morning with a sharp pain in her chest. The pain killers had worn off, that much was clear, and in their place was a searing ache to remind her that she had been shot. There was a subtle pressure on the right side of her chest as well. It wasn't painful, unlike her left side, but it was warm and significant. Root's eyes drifted down to assess the damage and was pleasantly surprised when the source of the sensation was Sameen's slumbering head. 

The memories from the previous day came rushing back to her. Root couldn't be sure before if yesterday's events were real or a figment of her comatose imagination. But now, looking down at Shaw, feeling her weight against her chest, so close to her heart, Root was convinced. Shaw had found her even when she was presumed dead, had saved her from Samaritan capture, and brought her safely home. Tears were welling in Root's eyes as she reflected on their circumstances. They had survived against all odds and made it back to each other. Now that her arrow lay asleep on top of her, Root was positive she would never again let go. 

Shaw shifted slightly, allowing Root to pull her arm from underneath Shaw and lay it back down across her shoulders.

"Mmph," Shaw muttered, her eyes fluttering open and closed again. A moment past and then she jolted awake, sitting up suddenly so she was kneeling next to Root. 

"Shit, did I hurt you? I can't believe I was just laying on you when you just got shot. How are you feeling? Do you need more pain meds?" Shaw looked directly into Roots eyes searching for any sign of distress. 

"Come back down here, I'm fine," a Root said, her hand pawing gently at Shaw's pajama bottoms. 

"Are you sure you okay? I was just on top of you. I must have rolled over by accident," Shaw said. 

"Never apologize for being on top of me," Root said with a smirk.

Shaw didn't move a muscle, her eyes locked on Root's, her concern for the hacker readily apparent. 

"Please, Shaw. Just lay back down. It didn't hurt at all, and I was really enjoying being so close to you," Root said. Shaw carefully returned to her position, making sure to apply the least amount of pressure as possible. "It's been awhile. Did I mention that I missed you," Root added as Shaw settled in. 

"Sure, Root. I'm happy you're not dead," Shaw said feigning disinterest. Root placed her arm back around Shaw's shoulder, her fingers lightly drawing shapes on her shoulder blades. They lay in silence for a while. Shaw knew she had never before felt so at peace. She had thought Root was dead less than 48 hours ago and now she was in her arms. It was surreal to say the least, and Shaw didn't feel much like moving. 

"Do you want some breakfast?" Root asked, always aware that food was never far from Shaw's mind. It was close to 11 AM from what a Root decipher from the sun's position outside, and Shaw would most definitely be hungry. 

"In a bit," Shaw said while throwing her leg over Root and pulling their bodies closer. Food could wait. 

\---- 

Shaw stepped out of the bathroom after her shower with a towel tied above at her chest. She was leaning forward, violently drying her hair with another towel, when she heard her stomach growl. 

"I could eat a whole cow," she said to Root. 

No answer. Shaw continued to dry her hair with the towel. 

"Ok, well maybe I'd settle for bacon and pancakes. Coffee for you, if you think you're up for it," Shaw said. Again, only silence. 

Shaw lifted her head to look at the bed, to where Shaw had left Root before quickly showering, and found the spot empty. 

"I'm going to kick her ass," Shaw muttered as she shuffled out of their bedroom. She made her way down the hall, checking each room before getting to the kitchen. It smelled overwhelmingly like bacon, and Shaw almost sat down at the counter to devour the perfectly crisped pieces on the oven tray. There were pancakes too, and Bear, who was sitting patiently by the oven waiting for a meaty treat. Everything was here for her perfect breakfast. Everything but Root. 

"Where is she boy?" Shaw asked, kneeling down in front of Bear. "Where's Root?"

Bear led the way out of the kitchen and towards the room adjacent to the fireplace. The door was ajar, and Shaw peaked through the crack before announcing her presence. Root was sitting in front of the computer typing away furiously at a dark screen with green text scrolling by. Her posture looked pained, and Shaw guessed that it wasn't the comfiest position for someone with a GSW to the chest and hip.

Shaw pushed open the door and Root turned around with a giant smirk on her face, her eyes devouring Shaw's damp body wrapped in only a towel.

"Do you I have to handcuff you to the bed to get you to stay there?" Shaw asked, smiling. 

"Sweetie, I thought you'd never ask," Root said, licking her lips. 

Shaw rolled her eyes and walked across the room towards Root. She was close enough now that Root was looking up at her, her doe eyes in full effect. Shaw placed both her hands on the back of Root's chair, her arms on either side of Root's head. Shaw leaned down until they were face to face, and brought her lips close to Root's good ear. 

"You know," Shaw whispered, sensuality dripping from her words, "I would like to handcuff you, touch you and kiss you, until you're ready to come undone." Root inhaled sharply as Shaw's towel began to loosen. 

"Then I would like to undress you so slowly and touch you so softly you would have to beg for me. You would tug hard against the hand cuffs and maybe I'd tighten my hand around your neck, my other hand sliding where you'll want it most. Because Root, I think we owe each other some fucking pain." Root swallowed hard at those last words, her heart rate spiking and her need to be closer to Sameen growing with every second. She turned her head against her assassin's and their cheeks grazed as Sameen pulled back to face her. 

"But before I can hurt you," Shaw continued, "you need to rest and get better." Shaw suddenly span the chair around 180 and started pushing it like a wheelchair into the living room, back towards the bedroom. Root sighed in frustration, her head falling back against Shaw's hands. 

"That was not nice," Root said, irritated, as Shaw was lifting her into bed. 

"Get comfy, Root. I'll go grab us some breakfast," Shaw said, a smug grin plastered on her face as she headed for the kitchen. 

"I'm going to kick her ass," Root groaned, her head falling back against the pillow, an uncomfortable dampness between her legs.


	13. Finally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a crazy long hiatus (I'm sorry) I've written something a little more mature than previous chapters. Skip if your not into that, not a ton of plot development here. As always, feedback is lovely and appreciated :)

Shaw returned from the kitchen with two coffees, a plate if bacon and a laptop tucked under her arm. She was smirking still, and the look on Roots face confirmed Shaw’s teasing had definitely left her wanting much more. 

“I brought bacon,” Shaw said, walking towards Root’s side of the bed, ceremoniously shoving two greasy pieces in her mouth. The blackout curtains were up and the sun was shining brightly through the windows. Root was half sitting up in bed, a hand under her shirt resting on her belly next to her hip wound. The color had returned to her face after a long nights rest and she was looking much healthier.

“I don’t want bacon, Shaw,” Root said looking Shaw up and down. She was still in just a towel, so close to being completely naked. 

“I thought you might say that,” Shaw said while placing the plate and coffee on the side table. “So I brought this to help curb the boredom.” Shaw scooped the laptop from under her arm and displayed the computer for Root, like a host on a game show. “You can code apps and hack governments or steal money from greedy magnates while you heal,” Shaw suggested, “and you can do it all from bed.”

Root wasn’t interested in the computer. She was looking at the most beautiful woman she had ever met and she was still feeling an uncomfortable throbbing between her legs from earlier. They had been soon close to being together and Shaw had tricked her into bed, in the worst way. She definitely was not thinking about writing code. 

“Fine,” Root said in her best-defeated voice. “Put it here,” patting the bed to her right. 

Shaw looked pleased with herself as she leaned over Root’s body to place the laptop at the other side. It was only as she stood upright she had realized her fatal mistake. Root’s hand was clutched tightly around her towel as it slowly unfolded off Shaw’s body. A gasp escaped Root’s mouth as Shaw stood upright accepting her sudden nudity. 

“Clever,” Shaw said, not moving to cover up. Root was beaming, her pupils blown as she took in all of Shaw; the sunlight cascading around her sculpted arms and rounded curves, her recently groomed center between two perfectly toned legs. Shaw pulled her damp hair into a loose ponytail and placed her hand on the towel Root was still clenching to her chest. 

“Can I have this back?” Shaw asked.

Root shook her head slowly and sat up from her half resting position. She placed her hand softly on the side of Sameen’s face pulling them closer still. 

“Sameen, I am only going to say this once, so please listen. I am okay. I am not fragile. You are not going to hurt me. I’m sorry I left you once, but I am here now, and I am never leaving you again,” Root said softly, her eyes locked on Shaw’s. 

Shaw nodded, her eyes rimmed with tears, as she leaned into Root, pulling herself on top of her. Root nodded back in understanding as Shaw climbed up onto the bed. Root tightened her grip on Shaw’s face and leaned forward to meet her lips. Shaw kissed back softly and slowly, reveling in feeling Root with her, under her, for the first time. She hadn’t even told Root she was scared to touch her, to get close like that again in fear that she would hurt her or worse, lose her again. Root had known anyway, and somehow said all the right things to make her feel better. 

Roots hands began to wander as Shaw’s kisses migrated down her neck. Root hummed happily as her hands caressed the soft skin of Shaw’s breasts and then down onto her round ass. Shaw began to suck hard at Root’s pulse point while simultaneously bringing her thigh firmly between Root’s legs. Root moaned at the new contact and pulled at her shirt, willing Shaw to take it off for her. Shaw grabbed at the fabric and lifted Root upright, sliding her shirt off swiftly before laying her softly back on the bed. 

Shaw hovered above Root, her eyes consuming every detail before she her mouth enveloped Root’s bottom lip entirely, playfully biting and sucking. The skin-to-skin contact escalated the mood, and soon Shaw could feel the Root’s soaked pajama bottoms rubbing furiously against her thigh. But before Shaw could move to take off Root’s pants, she felt Root’s fingers slowly enter her center. Shaw moaned and sat upright on her knees, her legs holding her over Root’s stomach. Root glided her free hand over Shaw’s toned abs, while pumping rhythmically with her left. Shaw looked down at Root, completely undone by her lover’s hands. 

Shaw brought her hands beside Root’s head and leaned down for a heavy head-spinning kiss. Root added a third finger and increased the tempo, grazing her thumb over Shaw’s clit as she bit down hard on Shaw’s shoulder. Shaw’s heavy breathing filled the room, clearly on the edge of orgasm. Suddenly, Root pulled her hand softly out of Shaw and grabbed her ass with both hands.

Shaw looked at Root confused and almost hurt. She had been so close to coming for the past ten minutes but Root kept pulling away right as she thought she was going over the edge. Root just smiled, and gestured for Shaw to move her legs up. Shaw understood instantly, and scooted up the bed until her center was directly above Root’s face. Root lowered Shaw’s thighs and languidly licked the swollen folds. She kissed and sucked, tasting all of Shaw before plunging her tongue where Shaw needed it most. Shaw’s hands gripped the top of the headboard, the pleasure coursing through every inch of her body. She came almost instantly when Root flicked her clit with her tongue before returning to her center. Root continued to fuck Shaw until she came again, this time harder, and forcing Shaw to pull off Root entirely and swing her leg around landing softly by her side. Shaw felt the pleasure pulsating throughout her whole body. She had never felt so good after sex before and couldn’t help the stupid grin that was plastered on her face. Root rested her head on Shaw’s chest and she regained her strength, her finger idly tracing a new scar stomach. 

“I can’t believe we didn’t do that sooner,” Shaw said finally, “Much better than I imagined.”

“You imagined this?” Root said smiling, turning her head to see Shaw’s face.

“The simulations got more bearable once I let you get in my pants,” Shaw responded matter-of-factly as she caressed Roots back with her hand. "Speaking of pants, you're still in yours! Did you.."

Root nodded, again returning her head to Shaw’s chest. Her heart rate had slowed back to normal. "I did. Twice. Seeing you get all worked up honestly did the trick," Root said. 

“Happy to be of service,” Shaw laughed. 

“I’m happy you’re back,” Shaw said more serious now, “I was a bit of a mess without you.”

Root smiled into Shaw’s chest. After all the shit they endured with Samaritan, after all the sacrifices they had made for the good of the planet, for people who would never even know there was a war to protect them, if after all of that Root could end up here and in Shaw's arms, God it worth it.


End file.
